


Babydoll

by Pyrrhicy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Feminization, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Fixation, Panties, Panty Kink, Roleplay, Sex Toys, Spanking, Strength Kink, infantalism but only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 13:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrrhicy/pseuds/Pyrrhicy





	Babydoll

Stiles is lounging on the couch when Derek comes home, his plush thighs dressed in white tights, long legs spread under a pink skirt that was just a few inches too short of decent. He’s playing video games, shouting obscenities to Scott through the bulky wireless headphones he’s wearing in contradiction to his otherwise dainty outfit, but his mouth snaps shut and his eyes go wide as soon as Derek opens the door.

“That’s not how a good girl talks, now is it, babydoll?” Derek asks with a rakish grin, looking Stiles up and down like he’s a delicacy as he takes off his jacket. Stiles shouting had echoed down the hall, easily.

Stiles snorts, but quickly says goodbye to Scott before taking off his headset and dropping the controller on the table next to him. He knows better than to try and stall when it’s clear that Derek’s come home with the intent to play. Not that he hadn’t expected it - he’d dressed up for a reason after all, and if the smoldering look in Derek’s eyes just happened to make his insides shiver with delight, well, mutual gratification was by definition a win-win situation, wasn’t it?

When he looks at his boyfriend again after turning off his PlayStation, it’s with a practiced delicate blush and a shy look. Stiles has been playing the role of innocent bystander since he was six and tall enough to steal cookies off the jar on the counter - and yeah, playing with Derek is a little different than that, but it all boils down to the same wide eyes, fluttering lashes, and pouty mouth. “What do you mean, Daddy?” Stiles carefully bites down on his lower lip with a practiced care; he’s put on lipstick and makeup today, really gone the whole nine yards because he’d been utterly horny all afternoon - the only reason he’d started playing the video game was in a desperate attempt to waste some time and maybe drain a little of his restless energy. It hadn’t really worked, but Stiles hadn’t gone through the effort just to smudge it and get lipstick on his teeth. 

Derek’s eyes have gone completely dark and he slowly walks up to stand in front of Stiles, eyeing him up and down slowly. He’s smoldering by the time he reaches his face; Derek always loves it when Stiles wears makeup - especially his eyes. Mascara and eyeliner and eyeshadow - he says it gives Stiles a look that is all at once innocent school girl and seasoned hooker. “Baby,” he starts slowly, “ _don’t_ play dumb with me. Good girls don’t say any of the things I just heard you shouting from down the hall,” he says, shaking his head slowly. Guiltily, Stiles nods back. He can feel himself sliding into the scene, falling into character, and it’s _rapturous_. “No they do not,” Derek repeats firmly. “All our neighbors must have heard you, baby, do you want to make me look bad?” He leans forward as he talks, one hand lowering to his thigh to feel the edge of the tights and the garter clips. 

“No, Daddy!” Stiles squeaks immediately, shivering under the gentle touch, and throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “I’m sorry, Daddy!”

“Good girls don’t dress like sluts, either, Stiles,” he says, pushing the hand a little higher, one finger sliding under the garter clip. “I know you think it’s okay because I let you wear these slutty things around the house, but do you even know how terrible it would make me look if anyone saw you in these?”

“I do, Daddy!” Stiles implores, shifting nervously now. He _never_ wants to disappoint Derek. “I’d never embarrass you,” he promises fervently. “The clothes are just for you. Nobody else gets to see me in them but you. Just you, Daddy.”

Derek hums noncommittally, pulling his hand away suddenly and allowing the garter clip to snap back into place. Stiles squeaks a little and Derek just smirks as he rounds the coffee table to sit down next to his boyfriend. “You’re not being a very good girl today, Stiles,” he starts slowly, slouching down and parting his legs. He pats his thigh with one hand. “Sit on my lap, babydoll,” he orders.

Stiles immediately scrambles to do as he’s been told, throwing his legs on either side of Derek’s thick thighs. He looks down at him through eyelashes thickened by makeup, wiggling a little more than really necessary to get comfortable. “I wanna be your good girl, Daddy,” Stiles whines softly, pushing his crotch down a little, increasing the pressure on Derek’s soft dick. Derek has got the best stamina of anyone Stiles has ever met - a werewolf thing, probably, because when it comes down to it, most things are werewolf things.

Derek doesn’t react to Stiles’ presence on his lap or even his grinding. “For starters,” he says, voice rumbling, and Stiles quickly presses his hands against his boyfriend’s chest so he can _feel_ the growl in the words, “you haven't even said ‘hello’ to me, babydoll.” He raises a hand to grip Stiles by the chin, making him look into his eyes. “That’s certainly no way to greet your daddy, baby.”

Stiles lets out a giggle, the cupid's bow of his lips parting so that he can reach out his tongue and brush against Derek’s fingers. Derek’s grip flexes and tightens, and his gaze narrows on Stiles.

“I’m still not hearing 'hello', baby,” he says, a darker tone of warning in his voice.

Stiles whimpers, shivering again, his body clenching in eager excitement. “Daddy,” Stiles moans, slumping forward and closer to Derek. “Hello,” he adds, almost shyly, angling his head back to look up. “Welcome home, Daddy,” and then tags on a sincere, “I _missed_ you.”

Derek finally smiles then. “Good, baby,” he murmurs, hands sliding up and under the too tight tank top that Stiles is wearing, fingernails biting into his sides. “Now give me a _proper_ hello.”

Stiles’ grin is anything but innocent then as he dives in for a kiss.

It’s open-mouthed and sloppy because Derek wasn’t in the mood for anything soft or sweet and that much had been obvious to Stiles’ since he’d walked through the door. His grip tightens even further on his waist, so tight that there would have been bruises if Derek wasn’t so always in control of his strength. He plunders Stiles’ mouth like a Viking, claiming the area for his own and eagerly swallowing the little cries of pleasure Stiles makes when Derek shifts so that they can grind their crotches against each other. Any hope for keeping his lipstick intact is long gone, but Stiles doesn’t give a damn, especially not when one hand detaches itself from his side and pushes even further under his shirt, rumpling the tank top until it’s out of the way enough so that Derek catch latch his firm fingers onto Stiles’ perked nipples.

Stiles shrieks at the pain of the pinch and the pleasure of the sensation, and Derek groans. Stiles can finally feel the hard length growing under his ass as Derek finally lets the sensations get to him. He bites at Stiles’ lips again before pulling back slightly. “You like that, babydoll, don’t you?” he growls, his free hand moving to play with the other nipple and causing more sounds to escape from Stiles’ mouth, these ones no longer blocked in by an invading tongue. Derek grumbles and turns his face into the hollow of Stiles’ neck, rubbing his beard against the soft white skin of Stiles' throat and nipping and sucking what will turn into a garden of bruises by the next morning. “You like it when Daddy plays with your pretty little tits, don’t you, baby?”

“Daddy, Daddy,” is all Stiles can manage to gasp, but Derek seems to understand this as the eager confirmation it was. He shifts again, left hand drifting down Stiles’ back while he bends his neck, sucking the abandoned nipple into his mouth. Stiles gasps, his hands holding his boyfriend's shoulders. The little crescent marked bruises from his fingernails won’t even last five minutes against Derek’s healing. He shrieks when Derek bites down harshly, before laving at the bud with a rough tongue.

“I think,” he says lowly, breath fluttering against Stiles’ wet and sensitized skin, “that you’re enjoying it too much.” His left hand finally reaches Stiles’ ass, and he squeezes it tightly enough for it to _hurt_ while at the same time delivering a particularly cruel twist to his nipple. Stiles can’t help but scream. “Over my knees, babydoll,” Derek orders swiftly, leaning back and removing both hands from Stiles’ skin that the sudden lack of contact makes him dizzy.

Stiles blinks dazedly several times before the words finally register. “No, Daddy!” he whines, but the protest is token at best. Inside, he’s practically crying with glee.

Derek glares back, his top lip curling ever so slightly and Stiles cowers immediately under the predatory glare. “You know the rules, baby,” he murmurs darkly, still keeping his hands off of Stiles. “You knew the rules when you were shouting bad words and making me look bad, and you knew the rules when you dressed up like a little slut. And now you’re going to face the consequences, understand?” Stiles cries and whimpers but he nods, because he wants to get spanked but he doesn’t want to actually be in trouble. Derek tilts his head slightly. “But,” he muses allowed, looking up and down at Stiles’ disgruntled state, “that was such a very nice greeting, baby. If only you had done that from the start - but no. You need to be punished.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Stiles whimpers, sliding lower in Derek’s lap.

“How about this,” Derek says, tone cajoling, like he’s trying to compromise with a stubborn toddler and not his boyfriend of five years who he’s about to take over his knees and spank, “since you gave me such a nice greeting, and because I’m feeling so generous tonight, why don’t I let you suck on your pacifier, okay?”

Stiles mouth immediately falls open, eyes glazing over.

Derek just smirks and leans over to open the drawer in the side table.

They don’t do this often, and neither of them really like infantilism kink other than Derek calling him his baby and disciplining him - but Stiles has never denied that he’s had a raging oral fixation since he was a baby. Growing up, it was all chewing on pencils and erasers and gum, but in his relationship with Derek, they utilize it _very_ differently. Obviously, he loves sucking Derek’s dick. But it’s more than that; when Stiles gets fucked, he wants to have something in his mouth. He’ll settle for Derek’s tongue in a pinch, but what he really wants is his _fingers_ , a gag if they're at home, a butt plug or dildo or a pacifier. Any of them work.

Derek smiles again as he straightens back up, a purple pacifier pinched between his fingers. Really, Stiles does actually prefer sex toys or fingers, but the pacifier has it’s own perks; namely, it never fails to heighten their play time.

“Open up, babydoll,” Derek murmurs, pressing the plastic against Stiles’ lip. Almost hesitantly, Stiles licks at the rounded tip of it, before giving up the innocent pretense wrapping his lips around it and sucking with a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure. It’s smaller than he wants it to be, but it’s far better than nothing. “That's it,” Derek says, almost cooing, his hands returning to stroke his sides. “No be a good girl for me and lie down over my knees just like Daddy asked, okay?”

Lulled into easier obedience by the pacifier, Stiles’ nods meekly and slides down to lay across his boyfriend’s knees. Derek’s cock - still not fully hard, because damn the man and his self-control - pushes firmly into his hip, refusing to let its presence be forgotten. Stiles wiggles under the guise of getting comfortable, and Derek sighs above him, but his grip is kinder this time as he runs a hand over the skirt covering Stiles’ ass.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and Stiles nods into the couch cushions. “You don’t have to count this time, baby, but I don’t want you rutting.” Stiles nods again and Derek hums. One hand moves to grip Stiles’ shoulder while the other slowly slides down to the edge of his skirt. It’s loose and flowy and so short that with barely a nudge from Derek his panties are fully exposed. One hand smooths over the little bit of white lace visible from the back, but it’s more thong than underwear, which means that Stiles’ pale cheeks are fully exposed to Derek’s smoldering gaze. “These are gonna stay on, baby,” Derek murmurs softly, fingers pinching at the delicate skin.

Without another word of warning, Derek’s hand lands down in the first solid smack against Stiles’ ass, and he squeals around his pacifier.

After that, Derek is relentless. Without having to count, Stiles has no idea how many hits he’s taking, or how many Derek is planning to give him, but his boyfriend usually aims around thirty for a good punishment. It’s Derek’s strangest skill; he knows just how to hit to make it hurt, but to keep it from damaging him. Tomorrow, if Stiles were to sit down too quickly on a chair, he might startle in surprise at the sting in his backside, but that would be the extent of the pain.

And Stiles likes the sting, loves the sting, but he’s not a big fan of pain. There was enough of that in Beacon Hills, in their turbulent years defending the town from all manner of monsters who should have beaten their small pack but instead just managed to get in a good beating before they were defeated. Stiles doesn’t want _pain_. But he loves the feeling.

Especially when, like now, even slap has him clenching against the thick butt plug in his ass.

It’s been there since that morning, since they fucked long and slow in their bed, not debauched and harsh on the couch. It’s their typical pattern - slow, loving sessions in the morning, where the kinkiest thing they do is after its all said and done and Derek slides in a plug while kissing Stiles’ deeply, trapping his seed inside of him for the rest of the day.

It’s not every morning, of course, but it’s enough that Stiles is completely used to going about a full day with a plug and come filling his ass. He’s a writer, so he works from home, and even when he does have to go out, Stiles is so used to being full that it doesn’t hinder him.

And he _loves_ getting spanked when he’s full.

He’s shuddering, every muscle in his body tense with pleasure and sensation as he desperately tries to remember Derek’s rule not to rut, his cheeks hollowed from how tightly he’s sucking on the pacifier. Tears build in his eyes when Derek lands a solid smack on the meat of his cheek, and the next blow hits just on the edge of the plug, shoving it just right so that his prostate takes the blow head on.

Stiles’ mouth drops open in a scream and his pacifier drops onto the couch.

He can practically feel the power of Derek’s smirk on his skin, and the next five blows come down hard and right on the crack of his ass, right on the base of the black plug peaking out from his panties, and Stiles can’t stop his screams.

Luckily, unluckily, Stiles can’t quite decide, but those five are the last, and then Derek is hauling him up, feverishly kissing at the tears Stiles hadn’t realized has spilled down from his eyes as he praises him breathlessly. “My perfect, perfect babydoll, I was wrong, wasn’t I? You’re my perfect girl, my perfectly good girl, aren’t you? You made me so _hard_ , baby, took it so well, didn’t you? My perfect, golden girl.”

Stiles breathes in shakily, his empty mouth hanging open as he buries his face into Derek’s neck, hands scrambling against his boyfriend’s broad shoulders as he tries to get a grip. His ass feels pleasantly sore, just a little bit heated when Derek’s hands drop down to massage it gently, and he lazily begins to mouth at the firm tendons on Derek’s neck.

He gasps again when Derek’s fingers nudge against the plug in his ass, one hand shifting his panties to the side so that his access is unhindered. “You keep it in all day?” Derek asks him quietly, fingers slowly moving to grip the piece of the toy that sticks out from Stiles’ greedy ass.

Stiles whimpers pitifully when Derek begins to turn the plug - not pulling or pushing on it, just lazily spinning it in place so that it tugs on Stiles’ rim so well, rubs against his walls ever so delicately. “Hnn,” he groans pathetically, dropping his head down onto Derek’s shoulder.

Suddenly the toy is shoved upwards and again, Stiles can’t hold back his shriek at the sudden railing against his swollen, abused prostate. “I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Derek says innocently, returning to his gentle spinning just as quickly as he’d gotten harsh. “Good girls answer questions, don’t they, baby?”

“Daddy,” Stiles moaned, blinking tears from his eyes. When he spoke, his lips brush against the skin on Derek’s neck, and he shivered despite the intense heat that always came off of his boyfriend.

“I’ll ask one last time, princess,” Derek says, voice on the edge between calm and threatening. His hand comes to a stop, and Stiles automatically freezes in response. “Did you keep this lovely little toy in all day, babydoll.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes, feeling like all the tension and pressure in his body drains out with the simple word. “All day, Daddy. Spent all day with it in, keeping your cum warm inside my body, Daddy. Made me so horny all day, Daddy.”

Derek sighs with satisfaction, his fingers returning to the gentle ministrations. “There’s my good girl,” he coos, sounding so very pleased with himself. “My good girl who does just as Daddy says and always takes his punishments so well.” He pushes on the toy again, much more gentle this time around, working up to a steady rhythm of in and out. Stiles whines and whimpers, fingers tangling up in Derek’s shirt as he laves his tongue against his boyfriend’s throat. “I think my good girl deserves a reward,” he muses allowed, and Stiles pants heavily. “What does my babydoll want tonight, hm?”

“Want,” Stiles gasps, pressing his crotch against Derek’s rock hard abs, not quite grinding because that would just get him in trouble, he steadily increasing the pressure on his cock. “ _Daddy_ ,” he moans, long and drawn out with pleasure, vision blurring as Derek steadily pushes the toy against his prostate.

“What do you want, baby girl?” Derek repeats calmly, like he isn’t pushing the toy as firmly as he can against the most sensitive part of Stiles’ anatomy.

“W-wa-wa,” Stiles gasps, feeling like he might very well start crying _again_ from the inescapable intense pressure. He can’t squirm or even move at all when Derek wraps his arms around his waist with an iron grip. All he can do is take it. “Want - D _addy_.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Derek advises, the bastard. “What do you want, Stiles? You want the toy? Or do you want my dick in your mouth? Or do you want your dick in my mouth? All you gotta do is tell me, baby.”

_Yes_ , Stiles wants to scream. Yes, he wants all of that. He wants it all so badly he feels like he might explode at any moment and drift off into whatever afterlife perverted sex maniacs like him get sent to. But he wants something else more. “Cock,” he finally gasps out, fingers spasming on Derek’s shoulder. “D- _Daddy_ , please, want y-your cock - in my ass, _please_.”

“There we go,” Derek says, sounding so fucking pleased.

And then suddenly he’s standing up and Stiles is being brought up with him, held in the air at first by only the strength of Derek’s palms on his ass and nothing else. Stiles shrieks in surprise and momentary fear, flailing for a dangerous seconds before his thighs clamp down around Derek’s waist, his ankles crossing in the small of his back and his arms gripping around his neck with all of his might. Derek just laughs at him, pats his butt, and then turns to the bedroom.

This Stiles knows for sure is a werewolf trait, and he squirms in delight at the reminder of just how strong his boyfriend is. Derek can fuck Stiles while standing in the middle of a room, never mind against a wall or on a bed. 

Derek kicks open their bedroom door and drops Stiles onto the cheap covers of their bed with no finesse, before systematically stripping himself and then Stiles of his clothes. In a moment, that only thing remaining on either of them is the plug in Stiles’ ass.

A second later, Derek’s fingers reach down between his spread thighs and pull that away as well.

Stiles quakes under the rough treatment, his achingly open ass immediately clenching desperately to be filled; the plug was five inches deep, more than one across. He’ll be gaping after having worn it for the entire day. He shivers again when he feels old come slide down to his rim.

Derek’s grin is all but feral as he clamors on top of him, lacking all of the grace he usually possesses in his eagerness.

“Daddy,” Stiles whimpers, blinking up at him through wet eyes. His ass clenches awfully when Derek lets his fingers scare over the sensitive skin of his stomach. “Daddy, _please_.”

Derek grins cruelly, shoving four fingers into Stiles ass without further ado and wrenching a shout from him. “Is this want you want?” he asks devilishly, crooking the fingers and pulling them through the own mess of his come that still lingers inside of his younger boyfriend. “My fingers? Or do you want something else? You have to use your words, babydoll. I’m not telling you again.”

“Your c-cock,” Stiles gasps, not caring anymore about his dignity or anything so irrelevant, because Derek’s fingers might be good, magical, divine on some nights, but today, Stiles has been waiting for cock for hours, and he doesn't want to wait for one more moment. “Please, Daddy, I want your cock.”

“You ready to take my cock, baby?” Derek asks, pulling the four fingers away, letting just one circle over the rim, earning shudder after shudder from Stiles, who just wants to be _filled_. “Think you can take my big, fat, _monster_ cock inside your loose, sloppy hole, baby slut?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Stiles breathes, and Derek doesn’t waste another moment before he’s slamming home. He’s almost two inches wide, a solid eight inches long, and Stiles might have been waiting all day for this, but that doesn’t stop him from screaming on the first plunge in.

Derek fucks like a wild animal, which is only to be expected. And Stiles _had_ expected it, he really had, so much so that on their third date he’d worn a butt plug to the restaurant they had reservations at, which at the time was by far the kinkiest and most depraved thing he’d ever done at that point. Regardless, it had taken an hour or nothing but prep after they’d gotten home, and even still the first time Derek fucked him he’d ended up crying tears that were more pain than pleasure when Derek’s cock shoved its way into him and his boyfriend had lost control. They’d learned from that point on, been careful and forward thinking and worked on Derek’s control and Stiles’ ability to relax and take it without pain, but that didn’t change the facts.

Derek fucked like a wild animal, because he was, in part, a wild animal.

And Stiles fucking _relished_ in it.

Their bed carefully sits half a foot away from the wall, so even as the entire room seems to shake around Stiles’ with the powerful rut of Derek’s thrust, it doesn’t go banging into the walls. There are already a few dents and cracks from before they’d learned that trick. Instead, the bed rocks wildly without hindrance and Stiles is caught in the very midst of it, fingers making bloody trails over Derek’s shoulders with the force of his grip. A scream is building in his throat, his eyes unseeing from the blurriness of pleasure and tears, and speech is utterly beyond his capabilities at the moment. He knows for a fact - because Derek is a sadist and a cocky asshole - that if he was asked to state his own name at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to. Derek is quick to plunge his fingers into his mouth anyway, letting Stiles suck and squirm and whimper around them.

It’s so, so good, and when Derek gets to this point of unhinged, where he’s fucking as if he were actually in his wolf form (which they don’t do very often because it _destroys_ Stiles), Stiles can’t do anything but go along for the ride.

Stiles comes after a pitiful three minutes when Derek shifts his angle so that’s he’s nailing his prostate dead on with every push inside, the head of his cock spearing it before sliding right on past, and then dragging out again before starting the process over. He knows that Derek had waited to hit the sweet spot, let Stiles retain enough of his dignity to not come the second a cock slides into his ass.

Stiles doesn't currently have the wherewithal to be grateful for the consideration, because his brain is melting from his ears.

The scream in his throat is released, a loud, drawn-out wail that is embarrassingly high-pitched even around the digits pushing down on his tongue, but again, Stiles doesn’t really care at the moment.

The world fades out after he comes, his limbs going completely slack and his eyes closing. If Stiles doesn’t try and concentrate on anything else when he gets to this state, then he knows that everything else will cease to exist. All there will be is Derek’s cock in his ass, and the almost unbearable pleasure of sensation.

Derek’s pace doesn’t hesitate. He won’t slow down or wait for Stiles’ to become less sensitive. He just keeps jackhammering, growls slipping from his lips and claws tearing through the sheets next to Stiles’ head as he chases after his own orgasm, lost in a very different sort of way than Stiles.

Finally, after another twenty minutes or so, Stiles’ finally drifts back into full awareness just in time to feel Derek’s knot catch on his rim.

Immediately, he whines and tenses up; he can’t help it. Stiles ass might be sloppy and absolutely gaping by this point, so much so that the plug he was using earlier might not even stay in his hole anymore, but the knot is always hard to take. It’s another benefit of working from home, really. The day after taking the knot is a day when sitting is near agony and walking is almost out of the question. They don’t ever do it more than once a week because Stiles does need to be capable of leaving the house some days, thank you very much, _Derek_.

Derek, who keeps thrusting until he can’t, angry little snarls slipping from between his fangs when he realizes that he’s no longer able to pull out, he’s so lost in the wolf. He switches to grinding then, somehow getting almost as much force out of the motion as he was able to with full mobility.

Stiles whines and thrashes at the added stretch just beyond his rim, the awkward position he’s been pushed into, and Derek growls and snarls some more before leaning forward and carefully latching his jaw onto the column of Stiles’ neck. Immediately, the younger boy freezes. He trusts Derek entirely, knows that he will never be hurt in any way that he doesn’t want by his boyfriend - but that doesn’t stop the instinct in his brain, the instinct that is telling him that there is a predator with its teeth to his jugular, and Stiles is nothing but prey.

Derek seems to be inordinately pleased by the sudden stillness, and a moment later he comes. Or really, begins to come. With the knot, his ejaculation will last up to ten minutes.

The teeth on his neck fall away a moment after the warm sensation of being filled reaches Stiles’ guts, and he pants in relief. Derek’s wolf face slowly blinks at him, and, as if he’s coming out of a trance, red eyes bleed to blue and eyebrows come back to simply bushy instead of supernatural.

Giving him a weak but undoubtedly happy smile, Stiles reaches with his left hand to brush through Derek’s sweaty curls. “There’s my horny-wolf,” he teases softly, wiggling a little now that he’s not under threat of having his throat ripped out, trying to settle the knot inside of him comfortably.

Derek immediately sees the movement and rolls them over fluidly, getting them situated with Stiles lying flat on his chest in the position that is the most comfortable to take the knot in. Hands with normal fingers gently stroke down his sides. “How are you feeling?” Derek asks him carefully, arching his neck to lay a series of gentle kisses on Stiles' face.

Stiles sighs in delight, relaxing into the gentle touches after the brutal raunchiness of the night. “Sore,” he admits, “but also amazing.” He lays his own kiss to Derek’s cheek. “It was really, really good, Derek,” he assures honestly. They never lie in the aftermath. It would be far too easy for supernatural Derek to injure weak human Stiles if they aren’t completely honest with each other.

Derek nods slowly, looking so contemplative that Stiles could almost believe that it wasn’t, in fact, his cock sitting heavy in his ass and slowly filling him with seed. He knows that Derek is mentally reviewing the evening. “It was really good for me, too,” he decided on. “I think I went a little too hard-”

“But I can take it,” Stiles finished with a pleased hum, closing his eyes and nuzzling against Derek’s chest. “Now be quiet,” he orders. “I’m tired and I’m going to take a nap on your chest until your fucking knot finally leaves my poor, poor ass, and then you’re going to carry me to the tub and give me a fucking bath and you’re not going to complain about it.”

He really is exhausted, and the rumbling of Derek’s laughter throughout his chest is enough to lull Stiles into a quiet rest. “Yes, sir,” he hears his boyfriend agree before he falls asleep.


End file.
